The celebration is in full swing–elders sit at the long table sipping wine, young people dance, and children run around, taking advantage of the noise to sneak a few stolen pastries.
Elandor and Varenoth sit in a corner, sipping their drinks while observing their family.
"I'd bet that your uncle is going to start telling that story again–the one where he supposedly chased a bear with a knife." Elandor remarks.
Varenoth sighs. "Don't even remind me. The story gets longer every time, and now we've reached the point where the bear was actually a dragon."
Before he can say more, Varenoth's cousin, Lethron, approaches with a wide grin and a glass of wine in hand.
"Boys, I've got great news!"
Elandor raises an eyebrow. "Really? I hope it's better than last time when you claimed you learned to sing, and the village cats ran away."
Lethron waves dismissively. "That was an artistic performance! But no, this is different."
Varenoth leans forward. "Alright, let's hear it."
Lethron looks at them seriously, pausing for effect.
"Turns out, I'm not just your second cousin… but also a distant relative of our aunt's husband. So technically, our family ties double up!"
Silence.
"So, if I understand correctly…" Elandor begins slowly. "…you are your own uncle's nephew?"
Lethron nods proudly. "Exactly!"
Varenoth shakes his head. "This night gets stranger with every glass of wine."
Elandor laughs. "And we haven't even reached the craziest family stories yet!"
Elandor and Varenoth are still trying to process Lethron's revelation, while the guests continue dancing and celebrating with growing excitement. The atmosphere is electric–it's the kind of moment where people forget their everyday worries and simply indulge in the joy of the night.
Elandor turns to Varenoth.
"You know what this means, right?"
Varenoth takes a tired sip of his wine. "That if we talk to Lethron long enough, we're going to uncover even more bizarre family connections?"
Elandor grins. "Exactly. But also, it means that now it's our duty to protect him–because he's family. Twice over!"
Varenoth exhales dramatically. "If that's how this works, I should be defending my uncle at least three times over."
Their conversation is suddenly interrupted by a loud thud–one of the guests had enthusiastically attempted a dance move near a table and managed to knock over an entire jug of wine onto the tablecloth.
For a moment, silence.
Then, laughter erupts.
Lethron takes a satisfied sip from his cup.
"See? That's why celebrations are never boring!"
Elandor and Varenoth chuckle, but then something unusual happens–on one of the distant tables, a young woman stands, raising her hand with an air of challenge, as if she's about to declare something incredibly important.
"Alright, who dares to challenge me?!"
Instantly, all eyes turn to her.
Varenoth tilts his head, studying the stranger with curiosity.
Elandor raises an eyebrow. "Now this just got interesting."
The square falls silent for a moment as everyone turns toward the young woman. She stands on the table, her blonde hair slightly tousled as if the wind had been playing with it, and her gaze shines boldly in the glow of the lanterns.
"Well? Who dares to try and beat me?" she repeats, as if waiting for someone to finally gather enough courage.
Elandor and Varenoth exchange glances.
"Are we sure this is what we need tonight?" Varenoth asks, amused.
Elandor grins. "No, but it's definitely going to be entertaining."
The girl leaps down from the table with a flawless movement, then strides toward them.
"You two look promising. Which one of you is brave enough to challenge me?"
Varenoth leans back, crossing his arms.
"First of all, what exactly are we supposed to beat you in?"
She steps closer with a broad smile.
"Doesn't matter. Anything–speed, skill, wit. The point is, no one can outshine me tonight."
Elandor chuckles.
"Now I'm curious. Alright, let's have a test. But if I win, you have to bring the next round."
The crowd murmurs excitedly, watching as the challenge begins.
The crowd watches eagerly as Elandor pauses for a moment, then grins.
"Alright, let's have a test. Name a challenge, and we'll see who's bolder."
The girl's eyes gleam with excitement.
"Simple. Walk along the edge of the well without falling in."
The crowd buzzes with anticipation. The village well isn't particularly dangerous, but it's wide enough that balancing on it presents a real challenge–anyone who missteps is sure to end up drenched.
Varenoth laughs.
"That's your toughest challenge? You're giving us an easy task."
The girl smirks.
"If it seems so easy, then maybe you should go first."
Varenoth considers the situation for a moment, then shrugs.
"Why not?"
The crowd watches eagerly as Varenoth slowly approaches the well. The dim glow of the lanterns reflects on his face as he scans the stone edge.
"Doesn't seem too difficult." he remarks, cautiously placing one foot on the rim.
"It always starts that way," the girl replies with a sly grin. "Then the next thing you know, you're swimming."
A ripple of laughter runs through the spectators, but Varenoth remains focused. He carefully adjusts his posture, stretching his arms out slightly to maintain balance before fully stepping onto the edge.
Elandor watches with his arms crossed.
"It's easy now. Just don't start talking while doing it–you'll forget where you're stepping."
Varenoth snorts but doesn't respond. He begins moving sideways, taking each step with careful precision. The well's edge is narrow, but just wide enough for a skilled person to traverse–though the alcohol he's consumed throughout the night certainly isn't helping his concentration.
The girl observes him intently.
"Not bad. But here's the real test."
Without warning, she claps her hands–just loud enough to startle him.
Varenoth's foot slips for a fraction of a second, his knee wobbles, and the crowd gasps.
But he regains his balance, straightens up, and smirks triumphantly.
"Nice try. But I'm still standing."
The crowd grows louder as Varenoth continues balancing along the edge of the well. His face remains focused, his gaze locked straight ahead, but the tension of the challenge is undeniable.
Elandor watches with his arms crossed, smirking.
"If you actually pull this off, I'll admit you don't need my advice anymore."
Varenoth huffs, but his next step is slightly hesitant. A brief falter–one he quickly corrects–but some in the crowd audibly gasp in excitement.
The girl observes him carefully, then suddenly steps forward with a grin.
"You're doing well, but let's add a little twist!"
Before anyone can react, she picks up a tiny pebble from the table and flicks it toward Varenoth–just enough to make him move to dodge it.
The stone isn't dangerous, but it's unexpected. Varenoth reacts quickly, sidestepping it with a small jump, but in doing so, he completely loses his balance.
A long, suspended moment where he tries to regain control.
Then–the inevitable splash.
At first, the crowd falls silent.
Then, roaring laughter erupts.
Varenoth remains motionless for a moment in the well's water, then slowly looks up. His hair is soaked, clinging to his forehead, water dripping from his clothes, and his expression is a mix of frustration and amusement.
"I suppose I owe you a drink."
The girl laughs, crouching down and extending a hand toward him.
"Start with a towel instead!"
The crowd is still laughing as Varenoth climbs out of the well, water streaming from his clothes while he mutters something under his breath, half-annoyed, half-amused. The girl steps back with satisfaction, swirling the drink in her glass before turning to Elandor.
"Well, your friend tried and failed. What about you?"
Elandor shakes his head as Varenoth grabs a towel from the crowd, attempting to rid himself of at least some of the water.
"That was a dirty trick," Varenoth grumbles, still dripping wet.
The girl smirks. "Not a trick, just a little creativity!"
Elandor crosses his arms, considering the situation, then finally grins.
"Alright. If you truly think you're bolder than anyone, prove it. It's your turn now."
The crowd buzzes with excitement–things are getting even more interesting, and it seems the girl isn't one to back down.
"Great idea! But I won't just walk along the edge of the well. I'll do something far more impressive."
Before anyone can react, she steps back, takes a deep breath, then leaps into a dizzying flip, landing flawlessly on the well's edge. The crowd gasps, then bursts into applause–clearly, she possesses more than just words.
Elandor smirks. "Now that's something. But still not enough."